


Designed For Your Punishment

by erericultist



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ...rosary, Alternate Universe, Anal Beads, Anal Sex, BDSM, Biblical References, Biracial Levi, Blasphemy, Bottom Eren, Bottom Levi, Demon Eren, Dom Levi, Exorcism, Exorcisms are not pretty., Fetish, Flogging, Goth - Freeform, Gothic, Guilty Levi, Incubus Eren, Innocent Eren, Kink, Leather, Lust, M/M, Masc4Masc, Multichapter, Nuns, Obscene, Pining, Plot, Priest Kink, Priest Levi, Rough fucking, Sadomasochism, Seduction, Sexual Tension, Short Chapters, Smut, Strong Language, Sub Levi, Teasing, Top Eren, Top Levi, WIP, WW2, WW2 era, Whipping, at first, bara, comission, creative sex toys, damnation, dark themes, dom eren, eren poses as a mortal, eren x levi - Freeform, erenxlevi - Freeform, ereri, ereriren, ererivaere, eventual emotional meaning, ex yakuza Levi, fuck toy, fucking and emotions, gothic catholocism, gradual build, hint of wicca, implied races and countries, inspo: the nun, knowing me i will use it in one way or another, levi x eren - Freeform, levixeren - Freeform, luring Levi, more tags will be added, not for the faint of heart when it comes to blashphemy, riren - Freeform, rivaere - Freeform, self punishment, sin - Freeform, sodomy, sub eren, this shit gonna get fucking filthy and dirty, versatile, verse eren, verse levi, voyeur, wet dreams, whore, wonder who that will be, yakuza levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erericultist/pseuds/erericultist
Summary: Levi is struggles with his faith in God. Bombshells ring through the sky and shake the earth. Why would he allow so much death and despair reap the land if he was there?A young man turns up on a storming night. The terror in his eyes derive from another trauma than war. He goes by Eren, as he proclaims. He holds an other-worldly aura that is almost magnetic. Levi has a history of succumbing to mortal pleasures, offering special surplus' in exchange of sexual favors to other young men. Despite how Eren piques his interest, he relents from acting on them. He is determined that he can help Eren out of innocent and wholesome intent when God's love is sparse. However, there are reasons to doubt he will prevail... for some things are just irresistible.





	1. Lost Little Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping in! Derusamawrites, my good friend, commissioned me to write for this AU.  
> if you are a long term reader, you may know I wrote for a similar AU two/three years ago. My writing has come a long way since then, so I hope to revisit some of my favorite kinks and do them justice.   
> If you would like to support me, please, www.buymeacoffee.com/iC8I1uJMl

Knees planted into the marble foot of the alter that spans before him; rosary digs into the flesh of his hands whilst he prays. He has it wrapped around his grip so tightly that his fingers swell red in their strain. His head is bowed down, eyes shut and rocking subtly. He recites the same verses over and over in tongues, calling to Christ in the way Adam and Eve did when they forsaken him. Raven hair sticking to his forehead with skin of porcelain.

Rain pours outside, sending a steady rumble to echo throughout the stone corridors of the cathedral. Mosaic windows depicting mother Mary and young Christ appear to weep with droplets running down their exterior. 

Everyone has retired to their quarters at this hour, or huddled around the furnace in the basement where they usually play cards or sip on wine. Levi, the lonesome man, is left alone to wallow in his remorse; his absence of faith as he calls to god. War reigns the land outside, man spilling one another's blood into the wretched dirt, and the cries of angels hail from the sky in bombshells. Women, children, the innocent are killed everyday and the plague of death creeps closer. 

No one knows if the turmoils shall befall the cathedral next to crack open the gates of hell. At night the ground may carry a subtle rumble like demons are clawing below the surface. It carries an unwavering, guttural emotion that you just know... even god's love won't protect them for much longer. 

Food right now is at a dwindle. While monks and other priests in the cathedral stash away their cheeses, wine and pheasant while orders Levi received from the church has him distributing a break from bread to the hungry. Looking into the eyes of a child with droopy lids, sunken sockets and cheeks with only a handful of food to give made his gut churn. What made it worse for him is that no one questioned it.

And what the hungry do for just a crumb more— it isn't anything short of survival— but Levi himself is guilty for allowing young men into his confessional for a small 'exchange'. Levi was always a man of sin, to take pleasure where he can and repent later. He wears a collar of white and a robe of black in moral chastity for a God he never truly knew was there, and if he was, why would he allow any of this to happen. 

The main door clatters but not enough to draw attention at first. Levi's mind drowns it out with the howls of the wind, almost as though every other little noise is closing in on him. The beating of his heart and his own mutters echoing around him, a tremble rising within him. The door finally busts open, wind and dead leafs gusting in alike. 

Everything Levi meditated on comes to a halt, an instantaneous sting of instinct crawling through his veins that he's been interrupted. He looks over his shoulder, arms lowering from prayer. 

A young man stumbles in, just barely staying on his feet. His skin is dark, not of a Romanian's. His only attire being a cloak swaddled at his torso and shrouding his face. His legs bare, feet caked in mud and blood. His head raises as he manages a few drags of his feet forward, exposing an adonis-like face of pouty peach lips, prominent cheekbones, and a straight nose. Levi catches his eyes, curtained by thick lashes with an unearthly— emerald glimmer to them. They hold so much pain, reddened waterline with wind chapped cheeks. It's brief, all before his eyes roll back with a heavy exhale, his legs fall out from under him.

Levi jolts, the wind blowing his hair from his face. Rain pours against the marble of the entrance. With thunder clamoring in the sky, Levi is revisited with reality of the here and now. There's a boy, soaking wet, on the floor with his legs and ass hanging out of his clothes. Levi lets the coil of rosary to fall from his hand, rising off the steps to the altaer.

He approaches up to the boy's slumped form, a hesitant pace. Something about this man emanates a sense of allure that feels as natural as the moon's tides. Apparently it was more than just his imagination, the outside winds forming a suction that untucked the hair from behind his ears and spiral the leafs on the cathedral's floor. The rain outside began to rain the opposite direction with such velocity that it sucks the doors shut again with a jarring slam. Metal rings on the doors clonk. A wooden bar falls down to secure the doors into a lock.

Levi's heart thrums erratically in his ears, but he shows little reaction on the surface. Majority of the candles illuminating the room have drawn to a dim. His eyes flicker back down to the man, whose leg tucks under his body. Blood and muck smear from his feet.

"Oui," Levi finally speaks, bending down to a kneel as the other man begins to huddle up.

The man slowly pushes himself up, head still down and on his knees. He's trembling. His hands are gnarled with scrapes and bruises, nails chipped back on some fingers. He clawed to get out of wherever he was. 

Levi's brows quirk together, the lightning outside blaring into the room. The ground below the strange man reflects it a moment's delay, his shadow appearing murky with a soft iridescence of golden light against water— shifting ever so slightly— and gone before Levi could deem belief in his eyes.

"You deaf or mute?" Levi reaches down, grasping the hood of this man's cloak and tugging it back. Tousled brown hair spills from the hood, an innocent face peering up to Levi beneath it. He's damn near seraphic up close. He looks almost frightful, bruised lips agape and his back inclined to a scoot back slightly. His pupils are blown wide as well. 

"I-I'm sorry," the man says with a thick accent, a heavy one with a western connotation. He's a foreigner, just like Levi was at one time. The young man grabs for his cloak, poorly covering his chest and clutching it there. That's the least of his worries to be concealing.

"You got a name?" Levi backs into a squat, elbows on his knees. His skin is so soft looking, despite the sweat and grit caked to his flesh, his skin is like a peach's. Levi's eyes steal glances at his fat thighs.  
The young man pulls his legs under him, coincidentally to Levi's lecherous looks. Levi thought he was caught staring a moment, but the man in front of him doesn't show an ounce of embarrassment or offense to it; he must be oblivious to how he looks right now. He blinks slowly, as though to be processing the inquiry with reluctance to answer. His lips part slightly, drawing in a shallow breath.  
"Eren," his voice is hush, padding back on his knuckles in attempt to sit up straighter— but all he is capable of is smearing more of his blood onto the floor.

His name is Germanic, old, but carries a softness that is fitting to his demeanor. Levi reaches into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, flicking it into an unfurl and draping it over his palm. He offers his hand to Eren, "let's get you cleaned up, Eren."   
Eren stared at Levi's hand a long moment before taking it into his own. Levi helps him to his feet. Eren stands knock-kneed and trembly like a fawn. "Thank you," his voice is hush, eyes glassy and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He nearly slips, but Levi wraps his arms at Eren's waist to keep him up. 

Levi leads him up the aisle and turning for a door just before the altar begins. He smells like rain and fire, like flesh being burned... putrid but not enough to make Levi's nose scrunch in disgust. Rather, it propped the question of where he came from. He looks like he was caged up like an animal, his haywire eyes that plea for mercy.

Levi's disobeying direct orders from the church as of right now, and lying to his brothers with his motive to keep this a secret. He can only hope to scrub away the prints of crimson Eren leaves behind before anyone else can see it.

"Don't ask..." Eren mumbles, shoulder bumping against the doorway as Levi goes to open it. "Don't ask what happened to me," Levi glances up to Eren, whose tears beget their ways down his cheeks. 

Levi swallows hard, taking one of Eren's arms to drape it over his shoulder. "Hush." Levi says softly, his hand sliding down Eren's side. His fingertips inch over Eren's abdomen subtly. Receiving a slow nod from Eren, Levi opens the door with a low creak; a hallway introduced to them with sconces of candles illuminating the way down. Moonlight trickling in through large windows, the rain and elements howling against the exterior. 

Making their way, silently shuffling midst the night. Levi can wash him up and feed him, then perhaps send him on his way. Some new clothes will do him good as well. 

Reaching the washroom, Levi pushes the door open with his foot. The washroom is large with tiled flooring with a shallow pool in the center. There are foldable dividers to change behind, various racks of towels and other sheer clothing. It is darker than the hallways. By the windows are various wash basins, all with iron faucets and buckets at their side. It's an old building, old plumbing is a default.

Eren silently marvels at the moon as they near the tubs. Levi positions him at a basin rim, hunching over it to turn on the hot water. It takes a high pitched ring and tumble of a noise before spewing out water. Eren jolts a bit, blinking a few times as his expression softens.

Levi rolls up his sleeves, and plugs the tub. Eren's finger tips fiddle with the hem of his cloak, eyes set on Levi. On Levi's forearm, just peaking from the sleeve, is a teal shade of ink, formed like scales and the black wick of a tail. Eren slowly slides his cloak from his shoulders, letting it pool at his feet. He's left fully stark in the moonlight, head tilting slightly as Levi pulls away from the tub to stand up.

Levi freezes a moment, even in the dim light his eyes of ice are prominent with a tinge of rose across his cheeks. Levi licks his lips, fists clenching at his side as he can't help but look Eren up and down. His jaw tightens, clearing his throat, knowing to keep his wits about him. "I'll fetch you some towels and soap," Levi's eyes tear away, his heart beginning to thud harder in his chest. 

Eren doesn't seem to have an ounce of shame, or even aware of his obscenity. Is he doing this deliberately? Levi pushes his intrusive, lewd thoughts to the recesses of his mind.

"Could I have... help getting in, please?" Eren attempts pushing off the brim of the tub, which Levi snags a glance at how Eren's cock settles between his thighs. He's shivering, subtly, but clearly needs help balancing.

Levi grunts quietly, shuffling closer to grasp Eren by the forearm. Eren winces, raising a leg over the rim of the basin before lowering it in. He whimpers as his foot touches the water. The water stings the cuts and scrapes at the soles of his feet. Eren clutches to the sides of the tub, swinging his other leg in as well. Levi's free hand shifts to Eren's side. His flesh is cold, but soft... so soft. Levi can feel his heartbeat just below his ribs. It's thrumming like a rabbit's. Levi lowers him down gently, allowing Eren to sink into the shallow water with a heavy sigh. 

Eren shakily brings his hands into his lap in the water, the grit and blood seeping away. Levi gently rub's Eren's shoulder, in a way to silently say he's off. Eren glances to Levi's hand the brief moment it was there with a perked shoulder before sinking further into the tub. He's too long legged to stretch out, knees tucked up a bit with his feet firmly placed on the edge of the basin. 

"Do you know how many stars there are in the sky?" Eren speaks to himself in a soft coo, humming an old lullaby. Just quiet enough Levi can't make out the exact words, but he can recollect the tune. He's primarily focused on gathering a towel from the rack and a soap and sponge from a shelf by the sinks. He spots a nice lavender shampoo— an uncommon one they have. It's a whore's scent. He grabs it, stuffing it under his arm. Just because it is used by prostitutes doesn't make the scent any less pleasant. It's a clean one, crisp, which is why whores use it. Levi should know, he was born in a brothel.

Levi turns, eyes flickering to the back of Eren's head. He's pouring water over himself with the cups of his hands. Lightning illuminates his silhouette briefly as Levi approaches. Bringing the towels and soaps over, Levi sets them down at the side of the basin. Eren's humming ceases, glancing over to Levi. "Thank you, Father," he lets the water in his palms run down down his wrists. He reaches over the rim to pick up the sponge and the bar of soap. He shifts in the water, sitting up some more and allowing his knees to peak above the surface.

He doesn't acknowledge Levi's idle staring, which Levi hadn't even realized he was until a clamor of thunder startles him. He isn't usually this uneasy... it's as though this man withholds a gravitational pull, drawing Levi in whether he is willing or not. It's almost commanding that he succumbs. It's enough for him to disobey orders from the church... he wants to believe that he's doing this on his own determination of good will.

Exhaling harshly, Levi turns his attention to a nearby chair, positioned by another one of the tubs. Bringing it over, he places it diagonally Eren. He sits down with a sigh, hands on his knees and legs splayed. His sleeves roll down past his elbows just a bit. 

Levi undoes the buttons to his garb. Underneath he's in a white button down and black pants. Slipping out of his garb, he carefully folds it and sets it onto the tub behind him. He catches Eren side-eying him, lingering on Levi's body. Levi glances down to his tattoos peeking from his sleeves, carefully rolling the white fabric up his arms to expose more of it. 

"Your hands," Levi murmurs, looking up to Eren with a roll of his shoulders. Eren is mid scrub along his arm, pausing. His knuckles have open wounds, cut and scraped to hell. 

Eren slowly continues, not wishing to answer any questions about them if that is what Levi plans to do. "The soap and sponge must be agitating the cuts," Levi reaches out, grasping Eren's wrist gently and taking the sponge out of it. He squeezes the water onto Eren's hand, earning a soft hiss from him. "Let me help you," Levi lowers Eren's hand back into the water, taking the bar of soap from his other hand.

Eren is silent with no objection, watching Levi attentively. Levi dips the sponge into the water, gently squeezing it over Eren's arm and shoulder to rinse away the suds. With the tuck of his toe under a peg of the chair, he scoots closer to the back of Eren. Rubbing the bar of soap and sponge together before pressing it to Eren's nape. 

"I haven't saw them in a long time," Eren speaks in a low tone, but just audible enough for Levi to hear. Eyes on the sky. Eren's body gently leans into Levi's touch, his muscles taught with aches.

"The stars?" Levi inquires, dragging the sponge down to Eren's back. His fingertips find blemishes in Eren's skin, just below the shoulder blades. The flesh is marred in diagonal scars on either side of his spine. They seem painful, tracing them without thinking. A rock pulls at the bottom of Levi's gut, they're in the place of a dewinged bird— an angel. Something that had flight and is now a prisoner to the earth. 

Could they be lashing scars? Levi has a few of his own scattered across his back... but none are this symmetrical. 

"Yeah," Eren finally replies, drowsily. Sinking further into the tub and allowing his limbs to stretch out. His arms drape themselves over the rim of the tub. Levi sets the soap bar down on the sponge, exchanging them for the shampoo. "You never gave me your name, father," Eren purrs softly. Something flicks under the water in Levi's peripheral view, like a serpent lurking. He dismisses it, assuming it is just the reflection of the lightning. 

"Calling me father isn't enough for you?" Levi muses subtly, pouring a glob of shampoo into his palm.

"No,"

Levi huffs quietly through his nose, rubbing the foamy substance between his hands before slowly sinking his fingers into the tangles of Eren's hair. "Levi. I'm Father Levi." Levi cups his palm and dips it into the water, leaning over Eren's body to do so. He brings his hand back up, pouring it onto Eren's head to help the suds expand as he massages Eren's scalp.

"Thank you, father Levi..." 

Eren reaches up and touches Levi's knuckles, gingerly, but only brief. It almost brought a soft smile to Levi's features. Eren sighs quietly, a hint of pleasure in his tone with his hand slipping back down into the water. The sound causes Levi to pause, chewing on the side of his cheek and eying Eren skeptically. After a moment of silence passes, he gently continues. 

…

He fell asleep in the tub. Getting Eren clothed, fed and in bed wasn't too much of a task. He didn't eat much, because he was so tired. In fact, Levi had to hold the glass of water up to his lips to make him drink. Luckily he wasn't too heavy for Levi to carry to bed. He was like a tuckered out child, only... it wasn't with hot cheeks, sweaty skin and scraped knees on a summer's day of play. It was bloodied limbs, tear stains and absolute exhaustion. He didn't look like he could ever recall such a fond memory, simply being a lost man at best.

In a way, it strummed the strings to Levi's heart to care for him. Perhaps this is what Levi needed, in this time of despair, he can protect someone on his own volition... out of the goodness of his heart that he wants to believe is there.

Eren is a room over, the storm has calmed. His room is locked from the outside, the key residing on Levi's dresser. It is originally a solitary confinement used for punishment. Blasphemers are usually held there temporarily to think of their actions; opposed to lashings. Levi is the only one with the key to it— hence pilfering it from the Deacon— a man named Erwin. He put Eren in there to prevent anyone finding out about him.

Levi undoes the cuffs of his shirt, his eyelids feeling heavy. His mind is a'fuzz with too many thoughts and little process to them. He works at the buttons at his chest next, shedding the shirt. Down his chest and torso is scales, koi fish, dragons and lotus flowers inked into his flesh. The teal shade stops just around the pinks of his nipples, lotus petals reaching out to them in a complementary manner. The tattoos stop between his pectorals, and stretches all the way down to his belly button before the path disappears into his pants. The scales wrap around the tops of his arms like wings, stopping shortly after his elbow.

He glances at himself briefly in the mirror upon his dresser. His rosary rests against his chest, on the bare path of flesh. He doesn't have the body of a priest, although he pinches his gut a bit. He's starting to accumulate a bit of fat here and there, he can't get lazy... but he's also getting older. He cards his thumbs into the hem of his pants in premonition to shirk them down.

He pauses, within the mirror, a lanky figure with glossy, tan flesh that is draped in white sprawls itself over the bed behind him. It is only from the edges of his vision that he sees this, eyes flickering to where the entity would have been. Nothing and not anyone is there. His bed is empty, red sheets and thick comforter still pulled up primly to the head of the bed with his pillow sitting on top. 

It's of Eren's essence. Levi's thoughts can't help but to subconsciously circulate around him. His dollish emerald eyes, the sculpt of Adonis, long legs and trembling lip... Levi restlessly pushes his pants down and steps free of them. He's left in his sheer, white undergarment. It barely covers his ass from the way it buckles and carries the slightest breeze if he walks. Not to mention his cock that sometimes decides to dangle itself out through the leg holes.  
Sinking into his mattress beckons him like the whisper of a lover. He wasn't this tired an hour ago, sapped of his energy in such a short time. On his feet still, his eyelids are heavy and he sways subtly. A warmth gently glides up his shoulder, the weight of a hand and rough with callouses. He embraces it in his slumberous state. Sighing heavily through his nose, the hand travels up his neck and onto his jaw. A thumb presses against his lips, which Levi grunts softly and opens his mouth just a bit in a willingness to suck on it. No action comes of that, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it arrived. 

Heat prickles at the bit of his gut like butterflies, drawing the feeling from his limbs. All that is left to feel is the excitement of his body that speaks louder than his mind. His eyes open just a bit, indistinguishable whispers in sultry tones flood his ears. They're silent, but somehow they are still there. It's like a pull, turning Levi's body around as he shifts to the bed.

The warmth from before washes over him, all of him like legs wrapped at his torso. His fingers search for the top of his blankets, peeling them down the bed for him to crawl into. He simply slumps into the mattress, belly first and stuffs his feet under the sheets. He pulls them over himself with the tuck of his pillow under his head. His muscles are at a lax, the candles in the room snuffed out with his consciousness. Even the thunder that rages in the sky is drowned out in his succumb to slumber.

Silk runs along the flesh of his body. Tender, warming him up with a shiver of delight to trickle through his system. The silk drapes itself over Levi. A heartbeat becomes audible, 'pumppump, pumppump,' it echoes. Is it truly an echo? Or is it just one heart joined with another? The silk gains a humanly formation over his back, another's arms resting over his own. A hand presses into the mattress at his side; joined by the heat of breath fanning over Levi's ear. 

"Father," a voice whispers to him, despite feeling the word enunciated against his skin, it's volume is merely like a trickle from the pits of a well. 

…

Skin on skin, sweat nesting the arch of Levi's brow. Levi drives his hips forward in mindless prowess. Below him is Eren, his ass up in the air and jiggling every time it is met with collision. His face is pressed into the bed, which Levi looms over him with his hand pressing into the side of Eren's head. The tears in his viridian eyes glimmer in the night, ruby lips parted with quiet, meek noises tumbling from them. His eyes are glued to Levi, intense and coaxing Levi to slam into him harder. Levi's breath is shallow, air sticking to his skin. His hand digs into Eren's plump ass, groping, pulling, pinching and slapping it at his own leisure. Eren's poor bum is beat-red.  
His insides, oh mother Teresa, his insides. Liquid fire is pumping through Levi's veins but his head is floating. With heavy lids, he watches his cock slip in and out of this beautiful man's ass. The primitive thought is on his mind, "More," it circulates endlessly.

Eren's moans gain in volume, drool coating his lips and seeping down his cheek accidentally. He's pushing his ass back against Levi, gripping the sheets and eyes rolling back. He loses his voice in one gasp of air, biting his bottom lip and clamping to Levi's cock. 

"Please cum in me, please, give it to me. I want to be filled up with you," Eren babbles senselessly, his hips and thighs are trembling. 

Levi groans in response, his strength that was used to pin Eren down wains. Corners of his vision blurs and floats around the room aimlessly as he ruts into Eren. All the pleasure that rushes through his body drowns out his senses and awareness until it is all faded into darkness.


	2. Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren proves to be more than just a runaway. His background is still a mystery to Levi, but Eren’s actions elude to something greater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update! I was working on my ereri Christmas special. With that over, I can focus on writing this again! I have so many plans for this story.

...   
Rays of morning seeping in through the window beats against Levi’s eyelids. He groans, naturally as he emerges from slumber. His brows furrow, his chest is flat against the bed. Cold sweat accumulates on the surface of his skin, hotter under the covers where his thighs meet. He shifts, met with the uncomfortable sensation of a wetness in between his legs.   
  
Levi groans, tucking his elbows under his torso to prop his face up from the bed. He rubs his eyes, sleep gritting away. He grabs an edge of his blankets, yanking it away from his body and swinging his legs around as he sits up. The front of his underwear is transparent with what is undoubtedly, his own cum. The pink, fleshy head of his cock is most visible. His recollection of his dream is foggy, but this isn’t the first time he’s had one of these dreams. Just something about Eren won’t get out of his mind. It haunts him in such a way that even now, he’s restless. His head has a pound to it, and his muscles are locked up.    
  
Peeling himself out of his soiled underpants, changing into clean ones and wiping himself down with a rag by the washbasin in front of a mirror; he dresses himself for the day. He doesn’t get much variety when it comes to how he dresses. As one of the head priests, he can choose the colors of his sash at his neck or the band over his waist. Anyone can choose the level of formality they wish to dress in— but white collar is needed— always.    
He slips into a black button-down shirt, tucking a white collar into the stiff neck and shuffling over for some pants. A more casual sense of attire, but fit for the long day ahead.    
  
He ought to travel a city over to gather some supplies that cannot be delivered due to war. They’re mostly for himself, books and tonics. There is an orphanage ran by a sum of nuns there, they wrote to Levi not many days ago in request of his presence. Allegedly a child there has fallen ill and has began to scare the others. Not much more was disclosed in the letter.   
  
For now, he plans to dress himself, take some day clothes to Eren and send him on his way with something on his belly. The thought does encroach him briefly; to attempt seducing him. To coddle him for longer, feed him till plump and invite him to a night’s company.   
  
The innocence in Eren’s eyes only further coaxes Levi into putting his own desires aside. The world is at it’s own throat and to cope, all he can think of is a good fuck.    
Buttoning his pants and sliding a belt off a nearby chair, he turns to a full body mirror.  His hair is sloven, wires of it sticking up from the humidity. He snakes his belt through the loops, tucking in his shirt and buckling the belt. he adjusts himself, eyes traveling down his worn, pallid features and his body. He is sure to roll his sleeves down past his tattoos.   
  
There was a time he’d wear them proudly, out for the world to see. Now they remain concealed for only his past to know.  Running his fingers through his hair, he turns away from the mirror. A small table in the corner of the room has a small satchel of money, holy water, bible, sage and a small note tablet. His bag is in the chair, which he shuffles over to and holds open to shovel all of his items into. He slings the bag over his shoulder when done, making his way to the door. He reaches to the coat rack in the corner, nabbing a black hat with a pinched nose and flat brim. Settling it onto his head, his gaze turns to the dresser at his other side. The key to the room he left Eren in is there. His fingers lackadaisically paw them into grip with a slide on the dresser top and into his pocket.   
  
The mosaic windows cast multi-colored light into the hallways. Levi slips out of his room and allows the heavy door to click shut behind him. The rain from last night gathers in droplets that deeper through the fissures on the stone panes. His shoes echo with a low clack in each step he takes. The brothers and fellow fathers most likely writing and praying as of right now. Every early morning starts with something similar. Levi only hopes to not to be caught by one of his peers or subordinates.   
  
Levi jingles the key in his pocket, walking on autopilot. He pauses when reaching the door that Eren resides behind, shuffling in close to it. He raises his knuckles to the wood, but does not knock. He glances either side down the corridor, deeming it empty with not a footstep to be heard. He drags his fist down, giving the door three light taps by the lock. Honestly, it is simply for the motor function for manners, he actually does not care if Eren is awake or not to hear it.   
  
Silence on the other side. Levi breathes in shallowly, pulling the key from his pocket and slipping it into the lock. His ear remains close to it, listening for any indication Eren is already up and about. He turns the key till a click sounds, the latch sliding back in follow.   
  
Withdrawing the key, he pushes the door open as quietly as he can. The hinges creak in contrary— and to a grimace of his own. He enters, eye focused on the floor as he presses the door closed behind him. He plops the key back into his pocket, glancing up to the bed Eren lies in.   
The curtains are drawn, but some light peaks through with dust dancing in its presence.    
  
Eren’s body is strewn across the cot of a mattress, thin sheets draping over his body. His silhouette is prominent, chest just above the hem of the covers. Pectorals pressed together with his arms tucked under his cheek. His chest slowly rises and falls.   
  
Levi quietly prowls into the room, a hand stretching down to gently run his fingers along the foot of the bed. His eyes linger on Eren’s body as they travel up the bed. Sheets ripple and catch under his finger tips. He steps heel-first, rolling his foot into his weight to avoid any disruption of a floor’s creaking. His hand gravitates for Eren’s form... his hips jutting the highest from the sheets. His thighs are also just apart from one another— his cock is most likely vulnerable and exposed just below the sheets.    
  
Levi’s urges run wild, provoking him to brush against the curve of Eren’s back ever so gently. He’s on baited breath, not daring to breathe. This man— barely so— carries a lethal sense of angelic being. No telling where he came from, the things he endured to arrive in such dire need last night. It’s innate that Levi wants to protect him, but never has such the desire coaxed him to go to the lengths of hiding an outsider within the church. He doesn’t even know if Eren has been baptized. It’s almost... an irresistible pull that Levi has to fight off.   
  
He freezes at a stir of Eren’s form. Eren groans and rolls his shoulders, but settles with the pull of the pillow under his head. Levi’s heart nearly breaks, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. He doesn’t want to wake Eren up. He turns for the window, grasping at the curtain and drawing it open.   
  
Squinting to render the sunlight beating into his eyes, he bows his head as he reaches to yank another one open.   
“Father Levi?” A low, groggy, voice croaks behind Levi. Levi bites his lip, his hands slipping down the fabric and retreating to his sides.   
  
Turning on his heel, he faces Eren. Eren’s hair is flat on the side he slept on, a little comical. Levi suppresses a grin, but a little snort surpasses his security. Eren pays no attention to it, rubbing his sleepy eyes and sitting up in bed more. His shirt is falling down his shoulder, thighs exposed as the sheets slide down his body.   
  
Levi clenches his fists at his side, clearing his throat. “Did you sleep alright?” Levi speaks quietly, but clear. His arms cross at his chest briefly.   
  
“I missed being in a bed,” Eren murmurs as his arms stretch above his head until his muscles give a satisfying tremble. His emerald eyes wrench shut temporarily, slowly opening again slowly with a glimmer directed to Levi. Eren withdraws his legs from the sheets entirely, scooting down to the edge of the bed to stand before Levi.   
  
Up close, he towers over the priest, his shoulders broad and arms lanky. Realistically, they’re only several inches apart in height— bringing Levi to only his shoulders. However, Levi remains unnerved, moving back a bit to give Eren his space. He’s used to being the shortest in the room...   
  
“There’s some clothes for you in the dresser,” Levi gestures to said furniture. “Dress warm, layer even. Take what you need for the road,”   
  
Eren’s head tilts, glancing to the dresser and back to Levi. “I won’t be staying with you?” He grabs at a blanket from the bed, shirking it from the mattress and draping it over his shoulders. He wears the blanket like a shawl, but swaddles himself in the blanket as well.    
  
The hint of disappointment in Eren’s tone hooks onto Levi’s conscience and weighs on it.  “I have errands to run.” Levi says firmly, not wishing to concave. He could be exiled by the church for smuggling Eren in. It is one thing to have gay sex, a dirty secret many men in white collars share. It is another to hold custody of anyone under any circumstance. Call it a precaution due to the church having the inability to make people reappear when they... disappear... for unknown reasons.   
  
“Perhaps I could be of help to you,” Eren turns from Levi with a dropped gaze. Padding over to the dresser, Eren’s fingers find the latch to the top drawer. He allows the blanket and clothes droop on his shoulders.    
  
Levi silently watches Eren open the drawer and pull out clothes to wear. He’s careful and firm about his decision on each article.  He undoes the buttons to the shirt Levi dressed him in last night. The fabric slips down to hang on his elbows, blanket pooling at his feet. The markings Levi noticed yesterday are a shade of pink in the daylight. Contrasting with his golden skin, either side of firm traps and a cut of his spine that travels down to the dimples of his ass.    
  
He’s left in some draws, hanging low on his hips. Levi shamelessly ogles Eren at his leisure. Eren steps into a pair of long johns, buttoning them up and selecting a pair of navy, striped trousers to go over them. He grabs a thick sweater and turns for Levi. He sticks his arms in either side of the sweater’s torso, preparing to put it on. His head tilts as he approaches Levi.   
“Wouldn’t you want a strong, young man at your side?”    
  
Levi’s eyes linger on Eren’s broad chest, subconsciously sinking into his own boots. His nipples are tanned, yet rosy. And his chest— he’s flawless there with the acceptation of some hair in between his pectorals. He’s been recently shaved...   
A huff from Eren pulls Levi’s attention up to his eyes. Levi shifts his weight onto the other foot, arms folding at his chest.   
“You think you can prove useful to me?” His head cocks aside with a subtle taunt.    
Eren wrangles himself into the sweater, pulling it over his slender body and poking his head through the neck hole. His hair fluffs out, cheeks red from the brief friction of the sweater.    
  
His shoulders pin pack as he fixes the shirt to his comfortability. Even in a thick, shapeless sweater, his pectorals are delectably visible. “It’s the least I can do...” Eren replies softly, the smile on his face gone and a yearning in his demeanor that makes Levi bite his tongue. He’s willing to do anything for shelter and food. It’s as though he is designed purely for Levi’s punishment, tempting him so effortlessly.   
  
Levi nods briefly, passing Eren to the door. “Get shoes and a hat on. We have to pick up some supplies from out of town.”   
Eren glances over his shoulder with a gleam in his eyes, that gentle smile reoccurring ever so slightly.    
Levi nearly groans.   
  
...   
  
Eren bites into an apple with gratitude plastered to his face. They sit on the back of a carriage, tottering to and thro with the bumps of the mud road. Sun is hidden by clouds, and Levi sits beside Eren stonily. Hands in his lap, face forward with eyes tarrying on Eren. He hasn’t stopped watching him so precariously.   
  
Eren smacks his lips by licking the juice from them, his cheeks are stuffed while he munches. He looks like a chipmunk.    
  


“How old are you?” Levi finally grasps Eren’s attention— who swallows the contents in his mouth.    
  
Eren drawls with a glance to the ground. “I think I’m nearly a grown man.”   
  
“You don’t know your age?” Levi’s brows raise in skepticism.   
  
Eren shakes his head, looking back at the wilderness passing them. “Hard to keep count.” He bites into the apple again, elbow resting on his knee.   
  
Eren is, without a doubt, matured... the hair on his chest can attest that. But his skin and demeanor remind Levi of a more youthful age than his body tells. Something of the soul, perhaps. Eternal.   
  
They pass hay bails entering town, old orchards with twisted cherry trees and stone walls that only come to about your knee. Armed soldiers stand on either side of the road. Sunken eyes stare at the priest and young man aloft the carriage on passing. The soldiers look like ghosts... heads turning on their shoulders, unwavering and complexions so wain with cigarettes hanging from their lips to burn.    
Eren stares back wistfully, they look worse off than he did last night. He looks guilty eating his apple, a beautiful ruby in this bleak environment.   
  
Levi gently places a hand on Eren’s knee, “You’ve earned it, eat,” he whispers lowly to Eren’s ear. Eren’s jaw clenches, Levi inched close enough that he can smell the lavender in his hair...    
  
He emits a quiet “Yes, Father,” diffident enough to give Levi a sense of satisfaction.   
  
Levi’s hand slips away reluctantly, but not to be too blatant in his actions. He sinks back, thoughts adrift to the supplies he is in need of. The basement is a little low on hard liquors, it’s been a while since Levi had the pleasure of gin on his lips. It’s doubtful that he may find any. Burnt flesh permeates the air as permanent as the north’s frost. It is accompanied by a musk that is undeniably rot, piss and shit of civilization. Any hard liquor left is probably used for medicinal purposes.    
  
Somehow that only leaves Levi with an even more painful hankering.    
  
The cart stops with a jostle, Levi and Eren’s bodies sway to the inertia. Eren is nibbling at his apple more modestly, only so much of its flesh left to consume. Levi slides down from the carriage, basically jumping off due to his height. Eren merely steps down.    
  
Small, stone cottages dot the outskirts of the ramshackle city. More elaborate, brick homes and cobble streets span further in. Old trees rise like totems of death in the middle of streets. Their branches bare and  rooted into dead grass, in memory of the fertility this land once had to offer.   
  
Levi cards into his bag for a sum of coins. He pulls out a handful and pushes them against his palm with his thumb to count them. He walks to the front of the wagon, scowling to look up at the driver due to the son bleating behind him on the cloud’s break. “Will this do?” Levi holds the coins up.   
  
The driver chews on a toothpick, his eyes weathered from age and labor work. He entendres his gnarled hand out, which Levi pours the coins into.   
  
“‘’Ave a nice day, father.” The man nods his head with a checkered smile, sliding the coins into his pocket.   
  
Levi grasps his rosary, “Walk with God.” He says as a goodbye. He glances to Eren and beckons him with the flick of his finger as he steps onto the sidewalk. The carriage pulls away and Eren is left trotting up to Levi. He’s finishing off the last couple bites of his apple. Pursuing deeper into the city, the chatter of the market gains volume. Other footsteps and the clacking of horse hooves. It is an older city where cars are prohibited on these cobble streets.   
  
Old structures tower over either side of the street, intricate in design. Eren marvels at the buildings and the road spanning before them, hugging at Levi’s shadow with a hand grasping at Levi’s sleeve.    
  
“Look at all the shops,” Eren whispers, glass windows with trinkets on display beg  him to ogle. Levi remains silent, shoulders heavy. Eren nearly trips over himself to keep up with Levi. Levi has ingredients to pick up. Just over the horizon of the city, upon a hill, is the rooftop of the orphanage. Black terra-cotta roofing with Victorian woodwork tucking beneath it. It blocks out the daylight, trees grander than its own height encompassing it.    
His gaze drops, clicking his tongue. He was never fond of such places.   
  
A Shepherd herds his sheep through the center of town, going the opposite direction of Eren and Levi. Eren’s eyes light up at the sight of the animals, they crowd along the sidewalks. Some approach him, specifically for the apple core in his hand. Levi shifted off to the sides of the buildings, watching Eren bemusedly as he gets swarmed by sheep.    
  
They nibble at his pants and bleat at him. Eren glances to Levi with a flicker of fear in his eyes, wobbling and unaware they want him for his apple. Levi doesn’t help, merely crossing his arms with a silent chuckle.    
  
Enough nods off the bypassing sheep at his hand, he hands off the apple core. The sheep instantly dive for the fruit. Eren scratches a sheep at its ear and pets its torso. He steps over the sheep, nearly tripping on them. He returns at Levi’s side with the dusting of his shirt. Levi looks Eren up and down with a raised brow. Eren blinks innocently, his nose and cheeks flushed from the cold.    
  
“Don’t fall behind,” Levi readjusts his bag on his shoulder, turning away for a shop with no windows. The sign hanging above it is a mortar and pestle painted on it. An apothecary.   
  
Receiving a belated nod from Eren, Levi’s palm glides against the wood to push it open. The aroma of witch hazel hits their senses, stinging at Eren’s eyes. Eren covers his nose and coughs, backing away. Levi places his foot in the doorway to keep it open, looking back at Eren.   
  
“Are you alright?”   
  
“Yes, I’m,” Eren chokes on his own breath to cough harder. He steps away from the breeze that further carries the scent. “I think I’ll just stay out here,” Eren rasps for air, waving his hand in gesture that Levi doesn’t need to wait on him.    
  
Levi grunts, “I’ll be just a moment.” He nods before slipping into the shop.    
Eren is left outside, alone, a look of distaste on his features at the apothecary. His upper lip curls with a low growl.   
  
The door clamors shut behind Levi. Smoke curls above candle light, various jars stacked on shelves with books. Sage is scattered on display tops with small writings of how each one is different from the other.    
  
An elderly woman sits behind the counter, a much younger one is poised against it. She polished a crystal, keeping her honey eyes on Levi. A priest in a pagan shop is uncommon. “I’m here to pick up an order.” Levi drawls, raising his head for his eyes to be visible. The woman sets down the crystal, sucking in a sharp breath.   
  
Levi closes in on the counter slowly, the young woman clutching her hands at her chest in unease of Levi’s presence.   
  


“He is the dark priest who I spoke to you about, Petra” the elderly one speaks up with a sip of her tea. She sits in a nook, lofted by books and sheer curtains to cascade at the sides. Little chimes adorn the overhead of the nook, bones and shells alike. Her flaps of skin spill over the collar of her burgundy dress, eyes sunken and skin flecked with splotches of dark melanin.    
  
The younger woman, who goes by Petra, swallows hard and nods. “Yes, mum,” she turns away, reluctantly tearing her eyes off Levi to disappear behind a archway adorned in beads.    
  
Levi leans against the counter, focusing on the knots in the wood. The label of ‘dark priest’ was one pushed upon him by the elderly woman. She makes witty comments about how the catholic people demonize her and her daughter so passionately; and yet their priest visits periodically or orders shipment from them.    
  


He comes for medicines, herbs, sage and soaps. At times, crystals if they catch his eye.    
  
“You have a presence with you,” the elderly woman grasps at Levi’s attention, again.   
  
Levi’s brows furrow, before realizing that Eren is waiting for him outside. “I have a new traveling companion I took in, just last night,”   
  
“Pure?” The woman sits forward, setting her tea down. Her cloudy eyes bore into Levi.   
  
Levi’s lips part in premonition to attest, but is left befuddled on what would arouse such a question. “Presumably, he’s barely a man.”   
  
“If not the boy, something else lurks with you.” She rises from her seat, hunched over and frail. She scuffles over to Levi, slender fingers with knots for joints gliding against the wood top. Her other hand pulls something from her pocket, tinkling as she raises it in the air. A trinket on a black chain, and a black jewel guarded by ruby with it. The jewel is sharp, filed to a point.    
  
She shakily brushes a palm against Levi’s cheek. He remains nonchalant, the touch of the elderly woman coming across as nurturing and wise. She takes Levi’s hand into hers to pool the necklace into his palm.   
  
“Protection,” she rasps, closing Levi’s fist and holding him tightly.    
  
Levi falters, a moment passing and her long nails dig into his skin. The jewel in his palm being forced into his calloused flesh from the density. He gives a light pull, but her grip does not budge. Her eyes widen, whispering inaudibly.   
  
“Oi,” Levi growls, a bit of crimson seeping from the crevice of his fingers. He winces from the pain, pulling harder on his hand in attempt to break away. The woman hisses, grabbing further down onto his arm and pulling back.    
  
“Mum,” Petra enters from the back of the store, a velvet bag in her hand.   
  
Instantly, the woman releases her grip on Levi. Levi snatches his arm back to his side, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth and scowling. The woman’s demeanor reverts to being senile, crooning affectionately at her daughter’s entrance. She hobbles back to face her daughter with her— clawed— hands up to her chest idly.   
  
Petra casts a concerned look to her, and rather a frustration to Levi. “Please sit, Mum, don’t bother the customer anymore.”   
  
“Daark Priest,” the elderly woman roaches with a point of her finger. “Evil walks with you,”   
  
Petra plops Levi’s supplies onto the counter. She folds her arms at her chest, not emitting a word. Levi shifts his weight with the clench of his jaw. He has got the connotation that he may take his leave. He pays her, taking his supplies and exiting the store without further delay with the trinket in his pocket.   
  
Eren greets him with a smile, who had waited for him by the lamp post like a loyal dog. Levi didn’t pay much attention to it, the woman’s words lingering on his thoughts. He didn’t understand what she said, but they felt like instructions. He glances at his hand, observing the gash in his palm.   
  
“Father?”   
  
Levi tucks his hand away, meeting eyes with Eren. Levi inhales deeply, glaring away any inquisition from Eren. He doesn’t wish to explain the ordeal.    
  
“To the orphanage. I have business to take care of.”   
  
In a way, Eren’s obedience satisfies him. He didn’t ask without vocally being told not to, and he stays by Levi’s side. It’s something Levi wouldn’t mind getting used to...   
  
  
Reaching the orphanage, brick walls barricades the perimeter. No children can be heard, lest to say visible, playing or even present. Iron gates hang open in the wind, creaking in place. Levi pays no mind to the dreary aura, used to it, he already proceeds with entering the grounds.   
  
Eren lags, stuck at the gates in hesitation to step over the perimeter. He stares up to the top of the building, down and scours the walls from his spot. Head on his shoulders and bending about to fit every detail into view.    
  
“They’re caged, here,” Eren murmurs. He grasps a bar of the iron gate. A finger dragging down a jagged edge.   
  
Levi bites his lip harshly, wiping his stubble and scratching it along his jaw. “You familiar with orphanages?”   
  
A ray of sunlight hits Eren’s gaze of emerald to gleam brilliantly— intimidating with their power. It chills Levi to the core.   
“More than I’d like to be.” Eren sighs, finally setting foot on the property. Crows screech in dissonance from the rooftop, coincidental to the clamor Eren creates from allowing the gates to hit against the walls.    
  
“This will only be a while, you needn’t fret. Unless you’re afraid of children.” Levi commented in dry sarcasm. He smirks a little at his own joke, deeming the barren expression on Eren’s face that it must have went over his head. He puts a hand on his hat to keep it from blowing away in the wind as he walks up to the door of the orphanage. Eren follows closely.   
  
Instantly swallowed in the building’s shadow, chills wrap their ways down Levi’s spine and twinging his tailbone. He exhales heavily, eyes following up the work oak door. A cross is perched above the door, rusted in age. He grasps the knocker, giving the metal a few heavy taps. It squeaked and wailed with every pull.   
  
A few moments passing with no response, Levi knocks again, more aggressive this time. He presses an ear against the door, listening for any movement on the other side. He doesn’t even hear the children.    
  
Faintly, a thudding emanates from the other side. They grow more rapid, loud, and closer. Just as Levi’s fingers lax on the knocker, the door clicks open. It pulls away from him, revealing the stairwell and parlor. A woman with ashen hair and eyes alike peers up at Levi— which is not very common. A pair of thick lenses rests on her nose, and most of her hair is tucked away in her cap.    
  
“Father Levi?” She looks Levi up and down, clutching the rosary at her neck as she analyzes Eren next. “Who is this? Is he ordained with the church?”   
  
“Not yet,” Levi bites out quickly, stepping in front of Eren to block her view of him. “He is helping me, today. If you seek my assistance as you or one of your sisters said in letter, I suggest you appoint me to the child right away.”   
  
Her lips press together, inhaling deeply and giving an acquiescent nod. She moves aside, holding the door open for both men to enter. The floorboards creak under Levi’s weight. The floor is raw or furnish, the popular paths taken worn down the most. The world has never treated orphanages kindly, but the war has made it even harder on them.   
“Where are your sisters?” Levi’s brows furrow as Rico— the nun that wrote to Levi originally— is already walking for the stairs.    
  
“Many of the women leave to go help with the war,” she speaks softly as Levi trails after her. Levi doesn’t use the railing, he placed his hand on it once but, it cracked and leaned away from his touch. “They don’t come back.”   
  
Levi’s gaze drops, grunting back in disappointment. He doesn’t blame them for fleeing, it is miserable here. Any woman who regrets being a nun can go to war and become a nurse; but usually what awaits them is rape and death.    
  
Topping the stairs, they follow down a corridor in silence. A warbled cry rings down the hallway, faint but guttural enough to echo. It’s blood curdling, feeling his pulse all the way down to his fingertips. He looks over his shoulder to Eren. Saturnine overcasts his features to a dulling of the chartreuse in his eyes. Levi swallows hard, remaining nonchalant on the surface. He presumes the cry belongs to the child he will be seeing.   
  
Rico gives no deliberate indication to verify this presumption, but her negligence to say anything about it may just do so. It is extremely rare a demon possesses a mortal. Often, they may leech off their host, drive them mad for shits and giggles... but settling into a mortal’s body as long as it may sustain them, isn’t.   
  
Let alone, demons do not possess children unless they are already stripped of their innocence. Despite the parasites being drawn to such purity, they cannot reside in it. It must be defiled, first.   
  
The growls get louder the closer the draw to the end of the corridor. Rattling, like an animal in a cage.    
  
“You have her bound?” Levi asks incredulously. His methods at mind would not include restraining a child.   
Rico holds her pointer over her lips, grasping the door knob.    
  
“She is a danger to herself and others. She bit sister Mina, who was trying to feed her.”   
  
Levi clicks his tongue, “children bite all the time, she’s not a wild animal.”   
  
“I understand your skepticism, Father, but Mina lost a portion of her cheek.” Rico replies with a turn of the knob.   
  
“Is Sister Mina okay? Is she sick, running a fever?”   
  
“No.” Rico murmurs. Telling by her body language, gently pressing herself against the door with eyes staring out blankly— it scared her that it was not a viral illness passed through saliva.   
  
Eren stands on the opposite end of the hallway, inches from his back hugging the wall. No longer muffled as the door is opened, the child clicks and writhes in the bed. Sulfur permeates from the room, making Levi’s nose crinkle in distaste. Rico  holds the door open, not looking at the child.   
  
There are two nuns already in there with tubs of water and rags, trying to lay the rags over the child’s forehead.   
  
Levi’s jaw clenches at the sight before him. The child is a girl, barely a teen, with red hair and teal eyes. Her eyes scour the room frantically, bouncing from Levi, Eren and Rico. She huffs through her teeth with spit spewing from them. Her body strains as she attempts to curl up, sobbing out.    
Rico nods to the young nuns, silently relieving them of caring for the child. They scurry out, bumping past Eren with wide, doe eyes.   
  
“Please, it hurts,” the child pleas, whimpering and bringing her knees together. She sobs into her shoulder, soiling herself all the while.   
  
Levi digs into his satchel, pulling out his bible and rosary. His rosary slides out with the click of each bead against the fabric. He wraps it around his knuckles smoothly. He tucks his bible under his arm.   
  
“Isabel,” Rico is clutching the fabric of her skirt, “Father Levi has traveled a long ways to come see you,”   
  
Isabel is inconsolable, tears pouring down her face and ignoring Rico. Levi walks to a chair at her bedside, seating himself and setting his belongings down. Eren finally enters from the doorway when Rico ushers him so she can close it.    
  
Isabel silences instantly, head lolling on her shoulders. Her eyes bore in Eren’s direction with tears staining her cheeks. The sadness and beseeching of a hurt child is wiped clean from her demeanor within those seconds. Isabel then hollers with bare teeth, banging her head forward and side to side spontaneously before stilling again. She growls at Eren with a malevolent grin, thin trails of blood seeping from the corners of her mouth as she bites her tongue. “Devil! Cock sucker! Faggot! Bitch!” She gasps while yelling to make an unpleasant screech, eyes rolling back and particularly hissing in Levi’s direction. The blood from her tongue is staining her teeth and spewing onto the whites of her clothes. Some even flecks onto Levi’s hand, who freezes at the site of it on his skin.   
  
Rico places a palm on Eren’s chest, “you don’t have to stay if-“   
  
“I’m fine,” Eren nods his head curtly. Rico is at a loss of words to Eren’s indifference, but her attention quickly reverts to Isabel. “Do not show your fear,” Eren murmurs into Rico’s ear, ensuring that they dwell by the walls so Levi may not be interrupted.   
Isabel laughs maniacally, deeper than the average child, but still within her range. It’s dry, raspy like a smoker, but raw as it should be.   
  
Levi wipes the blood from his hand with a handkerchief nonchalantly. He goes to wipe the blood from Isabel’s chin, who stares into the ceiling with a puffing chest. She turns over to him with another snarl, eyes crossed and chomping at him. His hand quickly retreats, not keen on losing a finger.    
  
Levi is amongst the few priests authorized to perform exorcisms, he was trained specially by the Vatican due to his exceptional capabilities of handling the obscene. However, the only exorcisms he’s ever performed, as rare as they are, he was with an elder exorcist and he worked in shadow. But even then, they all resulted in the death of the host. He is reluctant to perform one, especially on a child this young. Last one... he watched a pregnant woman die because of his mentor’s belief that she was possessed. Reality, she was beaten by her husband into madness.    
  
His mentor was later excommunicated and Levi assumed his place.   
  
Exorcisms are extremely tolling on the body, more than what being possessed itself is.   
  
In these times, it isn’t a stretch to assume a demon is tormenting her. It is likely one that she created, that is a part of herself and those are far more dangerous than any of satan’s children.   
  
“How long has she been ill,” Levi finally states, pulling out vials of medicine and setting them onto the nightstand. The circles under his eyes shadow his features heavily, pensive with the thought that he may have to exorcise her. He’s determined to evaluate that she is not possessed.   
  
“Days now,” Rico shuffles up to the opposite side of the bed from Levi and leaving Eren by the door. Although, she maintains distance from Isabel. “She came to us injured, weak. She was ill then, but in a way we could handle. Her weakness dissipated and quickly became... this.”   
  
Many signs of a possession intersect with common illnesses that can be contracted, such as rabies, hypothermia and mad cow disease. Rabies has already been crossed off. Levi must narrow each symptom down, while keeping the mental state a factor or any undiagnosed disabilities.    
  
Taking epilepsy and anxiety disorders into account is often dismissed by the church, a part Levi does not identify himself with.   
“You managed to get her name while she was ill like that? Able to speak?”   
  
Rico nods, “she had a bit of energy to tell us about herself, we think she lost her family due to bandits...”   
  
Levi unscrews a vial, a dropper is connected to the cap. He gives it a squeeze, filling the dropper halfway before withdrawing it from the liquid. He taps the glass against the rim, drawing Isabel’s attention.   
  
She jerks away in her binds. Sweat made her hair cling to her forehead, even her clothes stick to her body. Her nostrils flare as she grunts. Levi reaches for her, hand hovering above her face. She strains with open jaws to bite him, shaking her head side to side vigorously. Acting quickly, Levi pinches her nose and holds her head in place. Her mouth clamps shut, she’s unable to make a noise like this. Her writhing comes to a gradual calm, her need to breathe gaining eminence. Her knees thump back against the bed, movements lethargic.   
  
“You’re going to smother her!” Rico darts forward, but Eren grabs her by the elbow. She nearly trips over herself trying to break free from Eren’s hold. She turns to look at Eren, who gives his head a slow shake.    
  
Isabel whines, finally gasping for air. Taking this advantage, Levi drops the medicine onto her tongue and removes his hand from her nose. She coughs and gags, forced to swallow the liquid. She spits and snorts with her tongue hanging out. Levi sits back into his chair, closing the vial with the flick of his finger against the glass cap.   
  
Rico sighs with relief, lips pressing together as she walks for the bed. “What did you give her?”   
  
“Sedatives and opium. A little something to calm her down.” Levi grasps some holy water after setting the vial back on the nightstand. “Whatever she is fighting, rest will help.”   
  
It calmed her down, indeed, but Isabel manages to keep up a low growl with bared teeth. She’s evidently fending off the instantaneous effects of the drugs. Her eyes are barely open.    
  
He opens a canteen of holy water, blotting the liquid onto the tips of his fingers. He draws a cross on her forehead with the liquid. She groans weakly in reply, head tossing aside. Levi murmurs a prayer in Latin, unfurling the rosary he kept wrapped at his palm to clutch the cross. With his other hand, he gives his holy water a flick or two over Isabel’s body. He uses his thumb to limit the water to come out, hogging the lid and only leaving a small bit for the spritzing. Isabel gags with a groan in agony, tending where the liquid hits her.   
  
Words of blessing and protection, Levi murmurs. None of ostracism.    
  
“Do you know if she was baptized?” Levi doesn’t look up from his prayer. Isabel is still groaning and turning in her place, but much more weakly. He sets the canteen down before touching his head, heart, and crossing it.    
  
Without the worry of being bit, Levi presses his thumb below the child’s eyelid to see her pupils. He checks both, blown wide and dull. The whites of her eyes are an off-shade of yellow with blood vessels bursted. Her lips are chapped as well, most likely from dehydration.    
  
“No, we don’t,” usually it is common procedure to know before the nuns take in another child.   
  
Levi points at a glass of water at the other side of the bed, which Rico passed to him without a word. Levi’s slips beneath Isabel’s head, raising it up a bit as he brings the glass to her lips. He tilts the glass to steadily pour water into Isabel’s mouth, who weakly complies to gulping it down without wasting a drop.    
  
Levi sets the glass down quietly, watching Isabel slip into a state of semi-consciousness. Some of the water residing on her tongue pools up to her lips, bubbling upon exhale.    
  
“We’re in hell,” Isabel speaks softly, her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “I’m in hell,” she chokes on her spit, gulping it down.    
  
Levi pulls a bundle of sage from his bag and matches from his pocket. His fingertips poke at  the necklace the crone gave him. It reminds him of the evil she said that lurked with him. Isabel’s words resonates with hers... then to Levi, their meanings clinging to his insides like soot on white walls. A dirty, musky layer, it feels to be. Hell is not a place humans are damned to, Hell is what other humans are capable of raising.    
  
He scrapes the match against the box and lights the edge of his sage. Waving the match out, he sets it onto the nightstand and rises from his seat. Isabel finally began to look like she has relaxed, wain and frail in her bed. The sedatives kicked in, so she may no longer harm herself. Levi  encompasses the perimeter of the bed with a trail of sage smoke. He’s silent, as is everyone else in the room.   
  
Rico appears eager to interject Levi’s practice. Eren’s eyes water, he coughs quietly and lifts his shirt over his nose.    
“Father, what are you doing?” Eren finally breaks the silence where Rico was too timid to. Eren does not speak out of skepticism, but curiosity— and subtle disdain for the scent.   
  
“Cleansing her.” His reply is dissatisfying to Eren and Rico, both.    
  
The demeanor Levi carries himself with may give the connotation that he doesn’t care for others, that he may be cold and bitter to the core. Eren slowly lets the fabric of his shirt fall back down from his nose. He breathes slowly through his mouth, eyes glued to Levi’s expression as he proceeds. Even though Levi is not looking up, the amount of empathy he holds for this wicked child... he sees her for what the nuns have missed, and that she is only a child.   
  
Little as they know.   
  
A warmth resides in Eren’s chest and Levi finishes the sage around Isabel’s bed. He murmurs a soft ‘amen’ and crosses.   
  
“That’s it?” Rico says appalled.   
  
“Cinaede,” Isabel mumbles under her breath. Everyone pauses, attentive. “Cinaede, Cinaede!” Isabel’s voice gains in volume, as though the sedatives have never taken effect on her. “Lucif’aa m’a imprégné,” Isabel rolls her hips as blood begins to spot through the fabric at her groin.    
  
“What is she saying?” Eren turns his head to Rico without looking away from Isabel. Rico shakes her head, nonverbally saying that she does not know midst stammers. She backs against the wall with horror draining the blood from her already porcelain face. Anymore white and she looks like a ghost.   
  
“She’s speaking more than one language,” Rico manages to get out, meeting eyes with Eren briefly.   
  
Levi stands over Isabel’s bedside, the sage in his clutches smolders to ash with a dying flame.    
  
“Ils m’ont violée,” Isabel rocks her body wantonly, evoking an internal cringe from Levi. The cross hanging from the rosary wrapped at his fist sways and hits his knuckles. A wave of nausea hits Levi, making it hard to look at the child.   
  
“l'un après l'autre,” she tugs on her binds with a shrill of laughter, trembling. “He said he could make it stop,” her brows quirk together with a falsetto innocence to her voice. She licks her teeth shamelessly with slobber trickling down her chin. Levi knows exactly what she said. It is in his mother’s tongue. The language that she so fondly ran back to any time she couldn’t find the right words in a different language.   
  
Isabel was violated. Not once or just twice. The trauma ensnares her. She is scared, despite her putting on this ferocious display. She’s scared, tired, and physically ill. The bullies, the self-serving and tyrants of humanity to lay their unwanted hand on another— they leave a potent, sour taste on the back of Levi’s tongue that is defined by none other than disdain.   
  
A clump of ash from his sage plops to the floor. Isabel’s sneer transforms to an utter deadpan as she watches it. Isabel wheezes for air on queue. Her fingers and toes curl stiffly and she behaves like she’s choking in her absence of yelling. Her neck tenses, ligaments and veins bulging alike. Like the blow of a candle, she falls limp. She is fending of the final effects of the medication, the one coaxing her body into a slumber. It numbed her pain enough to permit that outburst, and now she can no longer resist its lethargy.   
  
Levi stares her in her drooping eyes, watching them flutter slowly before she can’t keep them open anymore. Levi recites more blessings to her, knowing that they won’t actually help her.   
  
No amount of religion can help someone who has been taken by another, their dignity, safety and wellness shredded to pieces as they know it. Only they can help themselves, and the best the orphanage can do is change her clothes, keep her fed and hydrated until she can cope with the trauma.   
  
He tracks back to where he first sat, setting the sage on the bedside. “Keep this smoking with a cracked window.” Some of the white ash scatters across the nightstand top. “I’ll be leaving a small amount of sedatives to use when she becomes violent, please don’t keep her tied down anymore. And,” Levi points into the air without looking back at Rico, who has yet to process Isabel’s outburst in Latin and French. In the church, Latin is only a language monks in charge of writing bibles and higher up priests know of, nuns are not required to do so. It goes without saying that the pope and bishops know it as well.   
  
“Careful on the doses. Medicine is hard to come by these days, and an addiction won’t help her recover.” He places his belongings back into his bag, leaving two vials and a syringe, if needed. His fingertips trace the leather texture of his bible, not looking at the engraved words on the front. A smog engulfs his emotion, clouding it and not allowing any light to pass through. He’s shaky, not visibly, but in such a way he can feel it in his bones. He clears his throat and drags his bible across the wood before dropping it into his bag with less respect than what a priest should treat it with.   
  
Swiveling on his heel, he approaches Rico. “I think it’s best we discuss this outside.” Levi offers his hand to Rico, who’s silver eyes flicker to his with a subtle flinch. She hesitantly places her hand in his, visibly unsure why. Levi side-eyes Eren, who watches the two step out.   
  
Eren is left alone with Isabel. The door shuts behind Rico and Levi, their voices hush and muffled through it. Eren doesn’t care to listen in, slowly drawing near Isabel. She wards of a sense of toxicity, like a residue of a slime in the air and along every surface of the room. Although, it isn’t hers alone. Eren can hear it ticking and clicking in Isabel’s every breath. Only he could hear it, his ears are unlike any mortal’s.   
  
It’s important to Levi that this girl is okay, Eren could sense it in the woeful look on Levi’s face. This work pains him. Eren and Levi both know that the parasite latched onto her would not separate via exorcism without killing her. It is nearly a part of her. The only way to get rid of it is to know how to extract it, rather than rip it out.   
  
Eren has an inclination to help her, not out of his wholesome intent, but rather to please Levi. It would relieve him to see Isabel okay, wouldn’t it? Eren avoids the side with the sage, his nose crinkled.   
He leans over Isabel to undo the bindings at her wrists and feet. He works quietly, carefully. The floor creaks below him, cautious of when Levi and Rico may re-enter.   
  
He guides Isabel’s limbs to her side, so she may not be strained anymore. He sits at her side. Considering the blood that soils her underpants, she is about 13— or she suffers internal bleeding. Eren frowns, youths are so delicate. Their minds and bodies alike, break if not handled with care and nurture.   
  
He cups Isabel’s cheek, her flesh is like the cold stone of an angel statuette’s. He traces the side of her face, then to her chapped lips. He guides her mouth open with his thumb— pulling down on her chin. His other hand comes forth and aligns his index and middle finger to glide into her mouth. Inside, he can hear the clicking more clearly, down her gullet.    
  
The hallway carries a draft that nips at Levi’s ankles and nape. Both unpleasant places to catch a chill. Rico’s arms are folded at her chest, she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What will we do if she bites someone again?” Rico shifts away from the door.   
  
Levi is staring out the window, to the rooftops of dilapidated houses and abandoned, brick buildings. Many of the houses still utilize straw and mud for their roof tops, others with shingle tops are in need of replacement. “She is weak. Whatever she is fighting, it would kill her if I tried to cleanse her. I cannot perform an exorcism without direct orders from the church, and even so, this is not a situation I deem worthy to request such permission,”   
  
“She’s suffering!” Rico whispers hoarsely.   
  
“Only because she hasn’t had a proper drink and meal in days,” Levi quips back with a hiss, “that girl has bruises from her ankles, up to her neck. Her wrists are cut into from the binds and she hasn’t been washed in ages.” Levi leans against the wall. “There is no excuse for your neglect.” Levi’s voice dropped as though he trailed off.    
  
Before Rico can speak again, Levi adds, “she was raped.” There’s a pause, he doesn’t look at her. “Did you already know of this?”   
  
Rico clenches her jaw with tightened fists, her heart stricken with grief. She glances to the door, shaking her head. “She gave us no information on what happened to her, we were left to conclude she ran away from someone.”   
  
“She may be experiencing extreme hysteria from it,“   
  
A wail emanates from the other side of the door. Both Rico and Levi turn over their shoulders in unison, falling back on the foot behind them. The wail is shrouded by a gurgle and retch. Undoubtedly, Isabel is regurgitating. Levi’s heart plummets with the thought that the medication may have been too hard on Isabel’s malnourished stomach. His heartbeat travels to his ears, the throbbing prominent in his fingertips and toes. His gaze falls to the knob. Rico is paralyzed as well, caught in her own inner turmoil of what lies on the other side of this door.   
  
Eren was left alone with her. He isn’t calling for help, does Levi have reason to doubt his trust in Eren?   
  
The retching turns to sobbing, ailed by violent coughs. Levi grabs the knob and flings the door open. Black gunk and bile pools the sheets of Isabel’s bed, making the cloth heavy and cling to her legs. She clings to Eren, her face is buried in his shoulders.   
  
Eren stares out blankly, a heavy hand petting her crimson hair. His gaze wanders to Levi, a glimmer of gold residing in them. They’re empathetic. He looks so tired holding her, as though he is ready to cry, himself. Rico pushes past Levi, stopping at the foot of the bed.   
“Isabel?” Rico is unbalanced with her legs threatening to give in.   
  
Isabel peaks up from Eren’s chest, black liquid sticking to the corners of her mouth and the rim of her nostrils. She’s sucking in her breath erratically. Eren’s hold on her loosens a bit, holding her shoulders gently so she may turn to see both Rico and Levi.   
Rico falls to her knees, “it’s a miracle,” she wipes the corner of her eye beneath her glasses, whimpering.   
  
Isabel clings herself to Eren tighter, hiccuping. Levi shuffles forth, and her eyes land on him with curiosity. Her lips press together and fists tighten on Eren’s shirt. It hits Levi with a wave of pity, she’s horrified of him and Rico. Does she remember anything before just now?   
In the liquid she regurgitated... Levi spots the shape of small bird skulls and feathers in them. The smell, it was like pure ink and tar. Was this what she ingested to make her so ill? Who even swallows a bird whole like this.   
  
Eren guides her head to his shoulder again with a soft hush, “it’s going to be okay,” shes taken to him like he is an elder brother, related by their trauma. Levi was ready to tell Rico that Isabel may die, whether he actually was or believed it in his gut. Eren’s head tilts and a gentle smile takes to his features, one that reassured Levi as though he knew Levi’s exact worries.    
  
Levi’s heart thumps heavily in his chest, his legs move on their own to Eren and Isabel. The lord that he serves has never answered a prayer of his before, but if he has, he replied by bestowing Eren upon him. As much glee that swells within him that Isabel is in the arms of Eren’s protection, it doesn’t distract him from the innards she expelled. It’s a sense of foreboding that plagues this land. If war was something to be purged, its essence would look like this.   
  
Levi’s hand settles on Eren’s shoulder, slipping against the fabric of his shirt so his fingertips may press on Eren’s collarbone. Eren glances up to him midst his unruly hair that gets into his field of vision. Eren silently rests his cheek against Levi’s wrist, sighing and letting his eyes fall shut as he rocks Isabel to sleep like someone would to an infant. In that moment, Levi felt he could make a husband out of Eren. In another time and place where they are not forbidden to be together, he would aspire for such a thing.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, to all my wonderful betas. You’re beginning to be regular betas for me and I appreciate it so much. Your help is what makes this possible!

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my betas during this chapter <3 Zay, Tasha and Naomi <3


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